A Bit of Sultry Before Breakfast
by Chocolate Wolf
Summary: Following the prompt, "Alice sleeps naked, and Tarrant comes in one morning to wake her."


A/N: Hello! This is my first AiW fic. It has no beta so sorry for any horrendousness you spot. It follows the prompt on the 2010 Alice Kink Meme, "Alice sleeps naked, and Tarrant comes in one morning to wake her."

Disclaimer: Just playing in the sandbox.

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**A Bit of Sultry Before Breakast**

Underland differed from England in hundreds of ways. Cats had evaporating powers, animals could speak quite eloquently, fanciful dreaming was a common pastime—the list was endless. Alice stared at the material of the canopy—white, like everything at Marmoreal—and, as she fanned herself, she thought that the most prominent difference between the two locations at this moment was the temperature. Most of the time, her part of England was cool and rainy, dreary as the Dickens, but pleasant. It was summer in Underland, and no amount of marble in the castle could keep her from feeling almost uncomfortably stifled.

She sighed and threw off her sheet at last--to hell with propriety. She stood up and pulled her blue nightgown over her head, placing it gently over a nearby chair. The Hatter had made it for her, along with a few other clothing items, as a _ Welcome home_ present. Naked as the day she was born, she padded back to bed reveling in even such a minuscule decrease in temperature.

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Tarrant honestly couldn't recall a more beautiful morning. The sky was cloudy, the trees were singing, the birds were swaying and Alice was in the castle. He giggled. The smell of the kitchen hung about his clothes, and he focused on his task. _ Go wake Alice and bring her to breakfast. _ The queen had been airily drifting around the wooden table, dodging ingredients made airborne by Thakery, absolutely at ease and content to bake scones. How delightful!

The halls were nearly deserted at this time of morning, the courtiers preferring either to play chess in the garden or sleep in. His footsteps fell lightly on the marble _ floor_ as he stepped in front of Alice's _ door_ . He giggled, this time at the rhyme, and knocked. No scurrying, scampering, rustling or anything of any kind ensued. He frowned.

"Alice?" he tried, calling softly through the door. Well, she was ordinarily an early riser, so perhaps she was out playing chess. He tried the handle, and the door opened inward without a squeak. Poor thing was a mute.

The Hatter stepped into her antechamber, glancing curiously about. The jacket he had made for her hung prettily on the coat rack, and he paused to admire his handiwork. Not a stitch out of place. A sound from the next room made him jump, although it was not very loud. It sounded rather like a sigh or a yawn. She was still asleep, the lazy thing. Naughty!

Following the sound, he padded into her bedroom and stopped at the sight of a light blue, silk nightgown he had constructed. It was folded carefully over the back of a chair. He felt a twinge. Was she wearing another nightgown? Yes, something probably better suited than something of his creation. His head drooped, and he walked towards her bed, intending to see this superior fabric. For the second time in a row Tarrant stopped dead.

Alice slept peacefully, her body under the open air unclothed by anything, never mind another nightgown. Tarrant flushed all the way up to the roots of his hair. He should have left by now. Really. Any second. But, he didn't budge. He couldn't tear his eyes away from where her hair rested on the porcelain skin of her breasts, from where her ribs met the incline of her stomach, from where her stomach met her abdomen and from where her abdomen met…yes, he really had to go.

Before he could move, Alice breathed in deeply and stretched, finally opening her eyes to the morning—and to Tarrant standing by her bed, smiling nervously.

Her eyes shot open completely, "Hatter?"

He let out an anxious giggle, before remembering himself and shutting his eyes tightly, "Erm…yes, the queen requested me to request you to request, quest, queen-quest—"

Alice stood and stepped close, instinctively holding his face between her hands like she did at Salazen Grum, "Hatter!"

He opened his eyes, "—fastbreak…I'm fine. That you come to breakfast." Alice could see him struggling to keep his gaze on her face, and she smiled. Always the gentleman, her Tarrant.

She drew in a slow breath and made a decision, "Tarrant—" He shuddered a little. He had never heard her speak his name before. "—you…you can look, if you like." He saw her blush, and was sorely tempted to follow its path from her cheeks, to the hollow below her neck, to _ other _ places.

He slammed his eyes shut again, "I—I couldn't p-possibly."

Her hands were still on his face, and she smoothed her thumbs gently over his eyelids, "If you don't want to it's perfectly fine. I—" She stopped short. He had opened his eyes, and they were more golden than green.

Her breath stuttered as he took her wrists and guided her hands away from his face so he could get a better view. She could not stop the next blush, and this time he followed it down her neck and over her breasts, across her stomach to the thatch of curls between her legs.

"Oh, I want," his voice had darkened with his brogue, "and I want—" He tugged her body into his, "—and I want—" He brushed his lips against hers, "—and I want." He said the last with a slow growl, trailing his hand from her shoulder blades down her spine. Alice trembled with the sensation of his voice in her ear and his hand on her lower back. "But it's time for breakfast."

Tarrant's eyes were bright green and mischievous as he giggled and went to wait for her in the hall. Alice stared after him. After a few seconds of contemplation, she smiled and got dressed. 

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A/N: I'm sorry it's so short. I'd forgotten how much I hate the fanfiction format. Reviews are love. 3


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